


Sore

by ValmureEld



Series: I Tried Not to Get Into the Witcher and Look Where That Got Me [23]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 05:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValmureEld/pseuds/ValmureEld
Summary: Geralt's bad cough leads him very tired and achy to Regis' door.Brought to you by my cough of 3 weeks and counting and my extremely upset ribcage.





	Sore

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously guys intercostal strain is The Worst (tm).

“Here, drink this. It’ll help.”

Geralt grunted, accepting the drink and downing it, for once, without so much as a grimace. Regis looked at him with concern. Rarely had he seen his friend looking so exhausted.

“It’s been how many days now, Geralt?” he asked, kneeling at Geralt’s side and gently probing across his ribcage. Geralt was bare-chested, slumping uncharacteristically like he didn’t have the energy to hold his back straight correctly anymore.

“Four,” Geralt rasped, his voice hoarse from coughing.

“Four days without adequate sleep and you’re just now seeing me?” Regis said, tutting. “Geralt, I thought you knew better.”

“Witchers don’t get sick,” Geralt protested, though the effect was lost with his bad voice.

“No, but lung irritants can come from a variety of places. Archispore clouds, for example?” Regis suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Geralt waved a hand. “Yeah well, when I started coughing up black spots in the mucus I figured that was pretty self-diagnosable.”

“Still. I could have given you something to expedite the process,” Regis muttered, moving down Geralt’s ribs until he tensed and gave a hiss. “I am sorry. It appears you’ve strained several layers of intercostal muscle and perhaps even bruised your ribs.”

“Not cracked?” Geralt groaned. “Because that’s what it feels like.”

“It is possible to crack ribs with repetitive coughing, but no. I do not believe they are cracked,” Regis answered, carefully feeling around the tender area. “There is swelling and some heat but--” he rest his hand and Geralt groaned, this time a different sound as his head fell back. Regis raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend’s face.

“Geralt?”

He moved to stand and inspect Geralt further, concerned the lack of sleep was causing some new ailment, but Geralt grabbed his hand and put it back. “Don’t move. In fact, just,” Geralt tugged on Regis, laying gingerly onto his side with grit teeth and pulling on the vampire like he wanted him to join him. “Just lay down.”

Both Regis’ eyebrows went up. “I beg pardon--do you want me to _spoon_ you, Geralt?”

“Yes,” he huffed bluntly, his back to the vampire but his expression all too easy to imagine. “I’m exhausted Regis, and your hands are cool. Feels good for the first time in days and my whole back is sore. Just lay down.”

Regis quirked a smile, though the expression was sympathetic. “Alright, one moment,” he said, pulling his hand out from under Geralt’s fingers. Geralt made a whine of protest and Regis reached out and stroked his hair as a silent promise he was coming back. Only moments later he pulled his tunic over his head and lay down behind Geralt, gently reaching around his friend to cover as much of his aching ribs as possible with his cool skin. His chest lined up with Geralt’s spine and the witcher gave a huge sigh of relief.

“Better?”

“Much,” Geralt mumbled. “Thank you.”

Regis smiled softly and tucked his nose into Geralt’s silky hair, patting his chest gently. “Not at all, my friend. Sleep well.”


End file.
